Wondered
by ashehole
Summary: The "wonder" definitely didn't stand for anything good in Wonderland. Maybe not having a heart had been better than getting it back, especially when you couldn't have what you wanted. Alice/Will


Wonder is not as delightful as people would make it out to be. Will has learned that lesson the hard way, and he continues to relearn, regardless of his position on not receiving any further education on what Wonderland has to offer him.

He sighs, pushing a tree branch out of his face as he follows after Alice into a swamp of all places. "This better be bloody worth it," he grumbles.

She glances over her shoulder at him, that trademark flat look on her face, her lips tilted in a small smile. Not that she's amused, no. It's that annoyed smile she seems to reserve for only him. "You insisted on coming."

"I did not insist. I don't remember any insisting on my part," Will tells her, ignoring the wet slap of his shoes in the muck they're trudging through. "_And_ if I had - please don't give me that look - I was bloody insane. Out of my mind. Gone mad."

"Yes, yes. Yet here you are. Here we are," Alice reminds him. There's a certain fondness in her voice.

He wonders if it's too late to just push her in and make a run for it.

But no, he couldn't leave her behind. He couldn't let herself go flying into danger on her own. Somehow, Alice had become someone more to him. She was a friend when Will was sure he didn't have any left. Or at all. Thieves generally didn't have friends, although he supposed Lizard was someone he could rely on.

"Here we are, in a swamp, on our way to Slavering Sunderstones to retrieve yet another item that is likely to put us in more danger-"

"Can we really be in any more danger than we're already in, Will? Duck," Alice tells him, and he does, narrowly missing getting his head taken off but a giant, screeching bird.

He jumps, body turning toward it as it flies. His body bumps into hers, her hands going to his back to push him none-too-gently away from her. With a sigh, he brushes off his leather jacket, pretending as though nothing had just happened. In comparison to her, he is bumbling, ungraceful, hardly a thief of renown.

Okay, he was perhaps never a thief of renown, but sometimes a little lie never hurt anyone. Besides, he liked the sound of that better than a broken-hearted fool attempting to fill his life with things and danger to ignore the ever constant presence of the woman who had abandoned him for a crown. And it was quite a crown, sure. Rubies blazing on top of that golden head of hers.

His jaw clenches for a moment, and Alice pauses, looking him over. Her lips part, as if she's about to say something. Well, this is Alice. Of course she's going to say something. When doesn't she say something to him about any number of his current problems? Although, since she learned about Anastasia, since their lives had been bound together, she had been slightly more sensitive than usual.

"Come on, it can't be much further," is all she says instead. And then she's forging on ahead.

He rubs a hand over his eyes before setting off after her. Since he had come back and they found each other again, they'd hardly been out of each other's sight. Thinking about her waste of a wish was easier than thinking about Anastasia, so he focuses on that instead. Will wonders if that extends to all circumstances.

If he dies by someone else's hands, does she die too? What if the Cheshire Cat eats him? What a stupid wish. She could have let him die, let that constant ache in his chest finally ease. It's still there, of course, except worse now. Seeing Anastasia again hadn't helped in that regard. Seeing her ignore his cries for help, well, that was something not many people could take easily.

His lips press together.

She could have let him die, and she didn't. And now he owed her. Not that he is still accompanying her because of that, no.

He bloody _likes_ her, the stupid girl.

He wants to keep her safe.

He wants her to find her genie again, because more than he wants to ever admit out loud in as many words, Will believes in true love. Will knows it's powerful, and he knows that whatever Alice and Cyrus have, it's worth going after.

He just wishes that it wasn't killing him every step of the way. Possibly very literally.

"Alice, how much further isn't much… further…" Will stops in his tracks. "Alice?"

She's gone. How is that even possible? How does he lose that girl, of all people? Especially when she was _just in front of him_. He spins around, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Alice!"

See, this is the part of that wonder that he can't quite stand. It's not wonderful. There is nothing exciting or intriguing or particularly fun about Wonderland, including this swamp he's suddenly alone in. He leans back against a gnarled tree, head swimming.

"I should have tied a bell on her," he mutters to himself before straightening himself. Well, no point in standing around. He has a girl to find in the place, before she ends up getting eaten by something.

Or worse, _he_ gets eaten by something.

He doesn't really know how far he's gone, or how much time has passed before he hears it. Hears her. She's crying out a name, but he knows it isn't his.

"Cyrus!"

The swamp's probably made her gone mad. He knows he's been hearing things and seeing those bloody rubies glinting in the filtering sunlight. Anastasia's not here. Her dainty feet wouldn't dare to step inside of this place. If she wanted Alice and her wishes that desperately, she'd send someone else in for her, or simply wait until the two of them eventually made their way out of this.

"Alice!" he calls out again, hoping she'll respond.

"Cyrus?"

She sounds close enough, and he changes direction, stopping only when he hears the plopping footsteps of her running in the mud. She rounds a corner, covered in dirt, hair flying. Her eyes are bright, and he can't tell if it's from joy or tears. Possibly a little bit of both, knowing girls. There's something not right about it, though. Or the wide grin on her face. There's no hint of sarcasm to it.

It's innocent and happy and all things he isn't anymore, and all things he hasn't seen in her unless it comes to the genie.

His stomach twists slightly, and he snorts. That, he is sad to recognize, is quite the lovely stab of jealousy.

He should have ignored the rabbit and stayed in Storybrooke. Perhaps he could have looked up the ol' Mad Hatter and they could have bonded over crazy queens. He could be propping his feet up on a table and watching the telly and eating s'mores, and instead he's standing in mud while this girl is launching herself at him because whatever's in the air has made her daft.

Made her think that he's not him, but Cyrus.

"I've found you," she weeps gently without actually crying, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her grip is tight as she wraps her arms around him, as if holding on for dear life.

He stands there, awkwardly stiff, hands out and as far away from her as he can manage. But she isn't in her right mind, and he isn't really sure what the policy on this is.

"Alice," Will says gently, hoping she can hear him.

She pulls back, a slightly confused look on her face amidst the bright-eyed wonder that makes his stomach twist again. Her hands move, fingers crawling over his face. His hands go to her wrists now, fingers wrapping tightly around them so he can pull her away. But she's a step ahead of him; she always is.

Her lips ease over his. It's not a gentle kiss, as he's expecting, but it's not a desperate one either, which is what he would have done in her position. It's soft and firm and there's something in it that he hasn't felt in a long time, and he nearly breaks down. He should push her away, but honestly, he's not exactly a gentleman by any means, and there's something about the taste of love - even when it's not really meant for him - that he can't quite give up just yet.

Will doesn't mean to kiss her back, but he does it anyway. He hopes he can match the same kind of wonder she has, but maybe he's too infected with cynicism, because she pulls back suddenly. Her breath is warm against his mouth, and then she's gone.

_"Knave."_


End file.
